


Truly, Madly, Deeply

by Camden



Series: Spun 'Verse (HS AU) [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-09
Updated: 2010-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camden/pseuds/Camden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> He'd offered to be a mentor, but he hadn't really thought that through at the time. Now he's accidentally outed Kris and he's pretty sure the only way to make it up to him is to take him under his wing. Strictly in a mentor/mentee way, of course.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Truly, Madly, Deeply

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote [Spun](http://community.livejournal.com/ficbycam/42778.html), I attempted to end it in a way other than my typical "they meet, they quip, they fuck, the end" formula. However, apparently it's a formula that works, as nearly everyone who read it asked for a sequel! So here it is, with 90% more fluff, and so sweet your teeth will fall out. Ah, young love. :D Huge bushels of sweet young love to my awesome beta, [](http://sbb23.livejournal.com/profile)[**sbb23**](http://sbb23.livejournal.com/). Title from the Savage Garden song, because, while I tampered with the timeline liberally, the one date I kept was Adam's HS graduation year, which means this story takes place in 1998/1999, and as anyone who went to high school in that time period can tell you, that song was ubiquitous at every dance ever.

  
**Truly, Madly, Deeply**

When Adam gets to school on Monday, his friend Monte finds him in the commons and grabs his arm. "Dude, _not cool_."

"What's not cool?" Adam asks, looking down at his Bowie t-shirt and ripped jeans. Bowie will always be cool. There must be some other problem.

"An eighth-grader?" Monte hisses, pulling Adam towards the bench where they usually meet before classes. Adam's heart starts to pound. He's going to fillet Neil.

"Tommy hasn't stopped laughing since yesterday afternoon, man. You are not going to live this down. You don't fuck around with _babies_. Someone's gonna call the cops on you."

"He's not a _baby_ ," Adam snaps, belatedly realizing that he's pretty much admitting guilt. As they approach the bench, Adam hastens to add, "And there was no fucking of any kind. We listened to some Zeppelin and talked. No big."

He notices that his other friends are giving him _looks_."It sounded pretty big when I heard about it," LP says, raising an eyebrow.

Adam scowls. "You know how gossipy people are. My brother had a party, this kid came to it and he was feeling out of place so I let him hang and talk about his feelings and shit. You guys don't understand what it's like to be struggling with this stuff when you're in school," Adam finishes triumphantly. That's his trump card.

His group of friends – who, if his life were a teen movie, would be the outsiders who love music more than life, but refuse to participate in any school-sanctioned activities like band or choir because there's nothing more lame in this world– are amazing and he feels really lucky to have them, but they're all straight and they just can't get it. They're all really supportive and the kind of guys who are secure enough in themselves that they don't need to turn on the homophobic bullshit, but they still don't _understand_ the way Adam does.

Tommy shrugs. "I don't know, bro. That's not the word on the street."

"And when is the word on the street ever right?" Adam asks.

"Well, if you say nothing happened, we believe you. But still, you better stay away from that kid. People are saying some fucked-up things," Monte says. "I don't want to have to punch a football player defending your honor."

Adam drapes an arm around Monte's shoulders. "Thanks. And c'mon, it won't be the worst rumor I've had to deal with by a long shot," he says, forcing a smile through his guilt. 'Nothing happened' is a gross exaggeration, and Adam knows it.

"Yeah, I _still_ have people thinking I'm fucking you," Tommy says, faking a shudder.

"Please, bitch, that's the best thing that's ever happened to your rep," Adam jokes, dropping his arm from Monte to grab Tommy's hand and pull him towards the building.

Tommy doesn't answer because he knows Adam's totally right. The rumors of sexual confusion have gotten Tommy more ass (and all of it decidedly female) in the last year than he can handle.

Monte and LP follow them into the school, and Adam mentally braces for the stares and whispers. Of course, when you refuse to hide your sexual orientation from your high school, you're going to get inured to stares and whispers pretty quickly. Adam doesn't like the implications of these rumors, though. He hadn't done anything illegal – he's not even eighteen yet, and even if he were, he's pretty sure kissing isn't against the law – and he hadn't done anything Kris hadn't wanted. He'd begged for it, in fact.

He had thought about Kris all weekend, too, which he also feels sort of guilty for. He shouldn't have to, though. There's nothing wrong with thoughts. Although some of the thoughts he'd entertained had danced around the borders of decency.

But still. He's not that guy. He can do better than an eighth-grader. Even a really adorable eighth-grader.

He and LP part ways with Monte and Tommy inside and head toward their history class. Someone bumps into Adam's arm and when Adam turns to apologize, the guy sneers. "Well, if it isn't pedophile Lambert."

Adam feels LP start to step to the guy, but Adam just rolls his eyes. "Yeah, haven't you heard? All gays are pedophiles. It's why they didn't let us work with children until that pesky civil rights law passed."

He breezes past, not bothering to look and see how that information was received. He glances at LP. "See, this is why young gays need mentoring."

LP nods and holds up a hand. "Say no more, man. Sorry people are so fucking stupid."

Adam shrugs. He's used to it, and he hardly notices it anymore. Then a thought occurs to him – if the rumor's made the rounds to the high school, it's probably gone through the middle school too, and Kris _isn't_ used to people's stupidity. He's probably getting a lot of shit right now. Hopefully just words and not fists, but Adam knows for a fact that words can hurt worse than any punch.

He'd offered to be a mentor, but he hadn't really thought that through at the time. Now he's accidentally outed Kris and he's pretty sure the only way to make it up to him is to take him under his wing. Strictly in a mentor/mentee way, of course.

At lunch, he asks Monte to drive him somewhere after school. Monte says yes without asking where or why – he's the only one of their group with a car, so he's used to these requests – which is exactly what Adam had hoped for.

____spacer____

  
After last period, Adam meets Monte by his car. Luckily Tommy and LP aren't anywhere to be seen. Adam doesn't need any more witnesses. When they get in the car, Monte says, "Going to the State?"

The State Theater is their local community theater. Adam does lots of plays there, plus recitals and showcases and whatnot, so he spends a lot of time there after school. It's a reasonable assumption on Monte's part. He almost says yes because he's a big chicken, but then he sighs. "I want to go to the middle school."

"Adam!" Monte exclaims, hitting the brakes in the middle of the street and causing someone to honk that them.

"What? I have to check on him!" Adam protests. "It's my fault that this is happening. I invited him to come hang out with me and I didn't even think about what people would say. There were a bunch of other eighth-graders at the party. There's no way people aren't giving him shit today. He's probably spent the whole day either trying to deny something that he knows is true or else coming out to his whole school. Do you remember some of the things people said when I started admitting I was gay?"

Monte presses his lips together. Adam knows he remembers. It wasn't a fun time for any of them. Then he glances at Adam. "How do you know, though? People can be confused or whatever, right? Maybe he just wanted to listen to music with you and this is all no big deal."

Adam sighs as images of Kris grabbing the water bottle and spinning it on the futon between them, of Kris climbing into his lap and grinding against him, of the way Kris's lips felt. "I _know_ , okay?"

Monte rolls his eyes and says, "Jesus, Adam."

"I said it was nothing; I wasn't lying. But we kissed. Well, he kissed _me_. But that's all it was. So... I know. And don't try to make me feel bad. I already feel like enough of a pervert, which is why I want to help him now. In a completely platonic way."

Monte grumbles suspiciously, but he dutifully pulls into the parking lot of the middle school. The high school gets out earlier, so there's no one outside yet. "Anyway, how are you going to find him?"

"Maybe we'll see a huge group of douchebags beating a kid up and we'll know it's him."

"Don't be a drama queen," Monte says. Adam doesn't comment, because he knows Monte will help if anyone needs intimidating. Monte might be shorter than Adam, but he's pretty tough-looking.

Then a bell rings somewhere, and kids start flooding out of the building. Adam looks at the sea of people and thinks that maybe Monte is right and this is a stupid idea. He gets out of the car and leans against it, sliding his sunglasses down off his head. He wants a cigarette, but he's pretty sure that smoking in the middle school parking lot is frowned upon.

He scans the crowd for a few minutes, and then he spots the big guy that he vaguely remembers Kris being with at the party. And sure enough, there's Kris at his side. Maybe it's Adam's imagination, but he imagines that Kris looks smaller, defeated and _sad_. He clenches his fists.

The last thing Adam wants is to draw more attention to Kris, so he doesn't wave or yell. Kris is walking in his general direction, so he just waits until they get closer before he says, "Kris, hey."

Kris looks up and his eyes widen like a cartoon character's. He hurries over to Monte's car, his friend following behind. "Hey Adam. What's...?"

"When I got to school and heard what people were saying, I... I figured I should check on you or whatever."

Kris's friend's eyebrows hit his hairline and Adam wonders if maybe he should have tried to call instead or something. Kris shrugs. "I'm okay."

"People aren't...?"

"Not really –"

"Um, no dude, people _are_ ," Kris's friend says.

"This is my friend Charles," Kris says with some amusement.

"Listen," Charles says, barreling ahead, "I know you didn't mean to do anything, but this has been a _really bad day_. He won't deny it, so people are giving him a _lot_ of shit," Charles says, gesturing at Kris, frustrated. "I mean, I don't care if he's gay, but most people are _not_ that cool."

"Tell me about it," Adam mutters. "Hey, Charles, why don't you talk to my friend Monte," Adam says, opening the passenger door. "I think you two will find a lot in common."

Charles looks suspiciously at Adam, obviously realizing Adam's trying to get rid of him, but he still gets in the car and closes the door.

"So. It's been bad," Adam says, making it a statement and not a question.

"Not that bad," Kris says, but Adam can tell he's putting on a brave face. "I mean, once someone calls you a fag a few times, you get used to it. I didn't even get upset after a while. I mean, I am. It's not like they're saying something that isn't true, right?" He finishes his speech with a crooked smile, and he's just so mature and _brave_ , and Adam twists his fingers together because he really wants to hug Kris and this is just not the right time or place for that.

"Do you have a ride? Cuz we can drive you home if you want," Adam says suddenly.

"No, we ride the bus. That would be cool," Kris says.

"Thanks for _asking_ ," Monte grumbles as they get in the car, but he pulls away from the curb. Charles lives close, so he starts giving directions.

Adam glances at Kris. He looks normal. Not like he's been traumatized all day long. But appearances can be deceiving. "So, you, like, told everyone everything?" Adam asks, wincing at his ineloquence. "I mean, you didn't deny... anything?"

Kris shrugs. "I didn't figure they'd believe me if I tried to lie. And _you_ don't care, right? You don't lie. If you can handle it, I can handle it."

Adam allows that it's sort of true. He was about Kris's age when he stopped trying to fight back when people called him names. At some point, he just got angry. He snapped. He started saying, 'You're right, I am a fag, so either suck my dick or leave me alone.' It usually got results. But it was on his own terms – his own decision. Kris hasn't had that luxury.

"Do you want me to kill Neil?" Adam asks, finally. If only to break the silence.

"Awww, defending your boyfriend's honor," Monte says, smirking at Adam in the rearview mirror.

"Shut up, asshole," Adam snaps. He seriously hates the word 'boyfriend.' If people are going to misconstrue their relationship, they should do it without that word. He notices Kris's face is red, but he's smirking a little, like he's happy that Monte thinks they could be dating. Adam sets his jaw, but he doesn't say anything. Kris doesn't need to get shit from anyone else after the day he's had.

"You don't have to kill Neil," Kris says. "Besides, pretty much everyone saw me come downstairs with you. Even if Neil never said a word, people would have assumed. And I told you, it's no big, I swear. Everyone would have found out sometime. I'm not a very good liar."

"It's right here," Charles says, pointing to a house and saving Adam from having another try at blaming himself. Charles turns around and looks at Kris. "Sorry things were shitty today."

Kris ducks his head. "Thanks for... everything."

Charles nods, looking a little uncomfortable, and climbs out, waving to Adam and thanking Monte for the ride.

"Where to?" Monte asks, pulling out of the driveway.

"Turn left up at the next stop sign."

Adam stares at Kris for a minute. "You didn't deny _anything_?" he asks, finally, and Monte snorts.

Kris smiles. "Well, a guy in my gym class did ask if I let you... _you know_ ," he says, waving his hand vaguely. "And I told him I was only in your room for like fifteen minutes, and if he only needed fifteen minutes, I was sorry for his girlfriend."

Adam and Monte laugh, and Adam says, "What did he say to that?"

"Ah, well... I didn't say it so much as I thought of it the next period and wished I would have."

Monte hoots with laughter again, but Adam feels sort of pained. He doesn't even want to ask what the real exchange was. "Hey, will you drop us off at my house instead? Is that cool, Kris? Can you come over?" Kris nods, but Monte glances in the rearview mirror, suspicious.

"Adam..."

"Save it. I just think Kris could benefit from my experience in handling bullies, that's all."

Adam can see that Monte's eyebrows are still a little high, but he must figure he's lectured Adam enough for one day, so he makes a quick turn towards Adam's house.

____spacer____

  
After Monte drops them off, Adam opens the door and leads Kris inside. As they stand in the foyer taking their shoes off – Adam's mom is a fanatic about her carpets – Adam asks, "Is it okay if I tell my mom you're gay?"

"I haven't even told my mom yet," Kris says, his face serious.

"I don't have to. But it'll be easier to explain why we're going to hang out in my room. If I don't say anything, she'll think... You know." He doesn't want to get into specifics lest Kris get ideas.

Kris doesn't say anything other than, "Yeah, I get it. It's cool." He toes off his second shoe and follows Adam into the den. Adam's mom is folding laundry in front of some show about medieval warfare and she beams at them.

"Hey baby, who's your friend?"

"This is Kris."

Adam watches his mom size Kris up for a second. Kris isn't puberty-challenged or anything, so he doesn't look like a _kid_ , but he's still short and small, and Adam can tell that she's about to ask something – probably some careful mom comment like, 'Are you in Adam's class at school?' – so he quickly says, "He's in eighth grade. I'm mentoring him."

Adam's mom looks surprised. "Did you join a program, or...?"

Before Adam can answer, Kris says, "Actually, I... I'm gay. And people at school just found out about it and Adam's... helping me. With everything." He pokes his toe into the carpet as he says it, and Adam claps a hand on his shoulder, trying to be reassuring.

Immediately, his mom gets up and pulls Kris away from Adam and into a hug. "Oh, baby, I remember how hard that is. I kept threatening to go to the school and tear those mean kids new assholes, but he wouldn't let me."

"Yeah, I had this funny idea that having my mom fight my battles wouldn't exactly stop people from calling me a sissy."

Adam's mom makes a face at him over the top of Kris's head. "Anyway, you're welcome here as often as you want. If you want me to call your parents about anyth –"

"No! I mean... No thank you, ma'am."

"His parents don't know yet," Adam says.

"Listen," she says, holding Kris at arms' length so she can look at his face, "any boy who says 'ma'am' has parents who care about him, so I'm sure you won't have any problems in that department. But if you do, come to me and I'll help talk to them, okay?" Kris nods. "Also, now that you've impressed me with your manners, you can call me Leila. Now you boys go upstairs and I'll make a snack."

Adam wants to protest that he's way too old to have his mother make a snack, but he's kind of hungry and Kris looks grateful for the offer. They both thank her and head up to Adam's room and settle on the futon. Adam is keenly aware of the fact that the last time they sat on it, they kissed. He looks around, but there are no bottles of any sort, thankfully.

"Sorry about that, man," he says, mostly to create a distraction. "My mom's the president of the local chapter of PFLAG. She takes her job as Most Supportive Mother very seriously."

"It's cool. I'm glad _someone_ is happy for me." He quirks a little smile like he wants Adam to think it's a joke, but it falls flat.

Adam wants to grab him and hug him, but especially _here_ , it would be a colossally bad idea, so he just gives Kris's arm an awkward pat. "I'm happy."

"Are you?" He's giving Adam the flirty eyes again.

"This isn't going to work if you're going to look at me like that," he complains.

Kris looks away. "I didn't mean to. You're just... kinda hot."

Adam feels his cheeks heating up against his will. It's flattering – sue him. "Yeah, thanks. Now, how long can you stay?"

"My mom gets home at like five fifteen."

"Okay, good. So let's talk about how you're going to tell them. That's a big step."

They start talking, and it just flows. Adam tells him all about coming out, what he said, how he said it, and to whom. Kris tells Adam about his parents and how he thinks they'll take it, what he's scared of, what he doesn't understand yet. It's one of the best conversations Adam's ever had, with anyone.

He learns that part of the reason that Kris seems mature for an eighth grader is that he's actually a year older than his classmates. He repeated a year of preschool because, as he says, he 'couldn't put the blocks in the holes' when they did testing and the kindergarten lady thought he might have developmental delays. "She was wrong," he tells Adam. "I was just clumsy."

Adam tells him about the State Theater and the plays he's done. He talks about wanting to be a movie star and how he's sure he'll finally fit in when he gets to Hollywood. Kris tells him that he's teaching himself the guitar and he wants to start writing songs now that he's got angst.

They end up talking for two hours, losing track of time until it's so close to five that Adam has to borrow his mom's car to drive Kris home. When he pulls up outside Kris's house, they stop and look at each other for a second. "That was... Really cool of you. Really helpful."

"I'm glad."

There's an awkward pause where Adam realizes that, if this were a date, he'd be kissing Kris right now. He wants to, too. It's not like he hasn't done it before. Would there really be that much harm in it?

Before he can come to a decision, Kris says, "Okay, well, I'll see you later, I guess. I'll call you sometime this week."

"Good. I'll see you."

And then Kris gets out of the car, and Adam watches him walk up to the door and go inside before he drives away.

____spacer____

  
Adam doesn't hear from Kris for several days. On Thursday, he's sitting in his room after school, listening to an Offspring CD he borrowed from Tommy and thinking about reading the two chapters assigned in health class. The phone rings, and he grabs it, eager for an excuse to avoid reviewing CPR procedures.

"Hello?"

"Adam? It's Kris." Kris's voice sounds a little quavery, and Adam immediately freaks out. If he's been gay-bashed, Adam is never going to forgive himself.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just... Bad day. Can you come over and help me out with something?"

"Yeah, of course. What happened?"

"Just this guy on my bus, he –"

"Are you hurt?" Adam asks, not caring that he's interrupting.

"No, nothing like that, just..."

"I'm coming right now, okay? Don't worry." They hang up and Adam flies down the stairs, yelling to his mom that he's borrowing the car.

He drives to Kris's house as quickly as he can without violating any rules of the road. He's only had his license for about a year, and he knows his mom will never let him drive again if he gets a ticket. He parks in the driveway and practically runs up the front walk to the door. His mind had concocted all sorts of scenarios, each one more terrifying than the next, during the drive over, and he's starting to wonder if he should have said something to his mom before he left.

Luckily, Kris opens the door and he looks completely fine, other than the hard set of his mouth that makes it look like he's been trying not to cry. "I'm here," Adam says unnecessarily. "What's wrong?"

Kris turns around, and stuck in his hair right at the crown is a big wad of gum. "Oh, thank god," Adam says.

Kris turns back to face him, and scowls. "In what universe is _this_ a good thing?"

"No, I just meant... I was worried that someone hurt you."

"I said I wasn't hurt."

"I know, but there are a lot of things that could have happened, and I... Well, whatever. You're okay. I can fix this."

"Thanks. I could have waited for my mom, I guess, but she won't be home for a couple of hours, and it's really gross." His lip quivers just the tiniest bit, and Adam pulls him into a hug. With his face pressed into Adam's shoulder, he adds, "And I still haven't told her, and I don't want to explain why people are giving me shit."

Kris sniffles a little, but he doesn't cry. Adam's very grateful for that, because he can handle gum. He's not sure he can handle tears. The Allen's house has an open floor plan and Adam can see the kitchen from where he's standing. He releases Kris and pulls him through the living room to the kitchen. "You guys have peanut butter, right?"

"Why?"

"It gets the gum out. Grab it and then sit at the table." Kris complies, and Adam stands behind him, smearing the peanut butter onto the wad of gum. "So do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

Adam doesn't press him. It's not like he's never had someone put gum – or spit, or rubber cement, or soda, or any number of other nasty things – in his hair before, and he'd never wanted to discuss it either. "Have you got a comb? Like a fine-tooth one?"

"My mom might. Upstairs. Go through their bedroom and there's a bathroom."

"I'll look. Sit here for a minute and try not to get peanut butter on anything."

Kris gives him a halfhearted smile, and Adam goes back through the living room and up the stairs. He finds Kris's parents' room at the end of the hall, and there's a comb on the counter. He can't resist looking in the other rooms while he's up there. He dismisses Kris's little brother's room, but he leans into Kris's room to check it out. There are posters of bands all over the walls and there's an acoustic guitar on a stand in the corner. It's messy with t-shirts, books, and CDs on every available surface, but his bed is made neatly, covered by a blue striped bedspread.

Feeling strangely guilty, he turns away and goes back downstairs. "Found one!" he says, brandishing the comb.

"Cool. This smell is making me hungry," Kris tells him. He looks a little less _defeated_ now, and Adam smiles.

"Almost done. I have to comb it out."

They sit in silence while Adam goes through half a roll of paper towels, slowly combing the gum out. Adam holds Kris's scalp as he combs, trying not to pull his hair too badly, and Adam can feel the heat from his skin. His hair is soft under Adam's fingers, and he seems so delicate in that moment. Fragile. And Adam wants to hunt down all the assholes giving him a hard time and pound their kneecaps with a hammer until they plead for mercy.

"Ow!" Kris complains, and Adam realizes his hand has tightened in Kris's hair.

"Sorry. Almost done."

Adam pulls the paper towel through and follows with his fingers. He doesn't feel any more gum, just gooey peanut butter. "I think you're good. But we need to wash the peanut butter off of you. If you go over to the sink and lean over, I think I can get it out." He walks over to the sink and holds up the bottle of Palmolive. "This should work better than shampoo. Made to cut grease and whatever."

Kris nods. "Will you help...?" He's pulling at the hem of his shirt, and Adam wipes off his hands and goes to stretch the neck up and over the peanutty area so Kris's shirt doesn't get dirty. Adam swallows and tries not to look at all the smooth, peachy skin in front of him. He ought to get some kind of medal for his conduct here.

Adam runs the water until it's warm, and Kris bends over next to the faucet, shivering a little as the water splatters his shoulder. Adam watches as thousands of goosebumps spread across Kris's skin. With a little cough, he tilts Kris's head until he can use his hand to aim the stream where he needs it. He scrubs the dishwashing liquid in, rubbing the soft strands between his fingers until he can't feel any trace of peanut butter. He rinses for what seems like ever, but this soap is much _bubblier_ than shampoo, and the suds keep coming.

When the water finally runs clear, Adam grabs a dish towel off the oven door and rubs the back of Kris's head until his hair sticks up in damp spikes. He hands the towel to Kris so he can dry his neck. Kris stands up, and his nipples are puckered tight. Adam looks away again.

As Kris is swiping at his shoulders and neck with the towel, the door opens, startling both of them. "Mom!" Kris squeaks, as if she's walked in on something. Adam turns and sees a pretty woman standing at the back door, a boy of about ten at her side. "You're home early," Kris says, sounding like he's got something stuck in his throat.

She comes in and shuts the door, looking at Adam suspiciously. "Mrs. Harmon called. Daniel was throwing up. Who's your friend?"

"Sorry," Kris says, pulling his shirt on quickly. "This is Adam. Adam, this is my mom."

"Well, I'm going to go get Daniel settled in bed." She leaves the room with the unspoken, "And I'll be right back to find out what exactly is going on," trailing behind her.

Once she's up the stairs, Kris turns to Adam with a stricken look on his face. "I made it totally awkward and now she thinks something's going on. I should have been cool about it, but she scared the crap out of me. She doesn't get out of work until five and then she picks Daniel up at his friend's house. He stays there after school. So she's _never_ home before five fifteen."

"Unless your brother gets sick and she leaves work early."

Kris attempts a smile. "Right."

"So are you going to tell her? Do you want me to go?"

" _No_! I mean... please stay, okay? I might need..."

"Moral support?"

Kris leans into Adam, and Adam squeezes him hard. They spring apart when they hear footsteps on the stairs.

Kris goes into the living room, but Adam hangs back in the kitchen to give them a minute alone. He hears low mumbling and then silence that stretches a little too long. When he peeks out from behind the dividing wall, they're sitting on the couch, and Kris has his head buried in his mother's shoulder. It looks like they're both crying. Adam hastily retreats to the farthest kitchen chair and grabs a copy of _Ladies Home Journal_. He skims the articles, listening with half an ear.

He startles a little at the mention of his name, and he hears Mrs. Allen say, "Is Adam your boyfriend?"

" _Mom_! God!"

Adam grins and goes into the living room to save Kris from further humiliation. "Mrs. Allen?"

She gestures for him to come sit, and Kris hastily wipes his eyes. "We're friends," Adam tells her. "Kris knows my brother. That's how we met. And I've been helping him... adjust."

"You're... you're gay, too, then?"

He nods. "I went through all the same things a few years ago."

"I'm glad he's had someone to help him. Since he didn't bother telling his mother." She swats him gently on the arm, and Kris gives a watery chuckle.

"I thought you said you knew already. You could have said something first."

"Yes, but what if I'd been wrong? That would have embarrassed the heck out of you."

Adam smiles, glad to see there aren't going to be any problems with Kris's parents. "I should go. And Kris has my number if you ever want to call and talk to my mom. If you had questions or... issues, or whatever. She's practically an expert on all this stuff now."

Kris stands up and hugs Adam again. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Kris's mom gives Adam a hug too, and walks him to the door. "Thanks for everything."

Adam smiles and doesn't mention the fact that if she hadn't walked in, he probably would have jumped her son in the kitchen. He hurries out, mentally slapping himself. Kris Allen is going to be the death of him. He just knows it.

It becomes routine for Adam to coerce Monte into picking Kris up after school at least a few times a week and dropping them at one of their houses to hang out, sometimes with Adam's friends or Kris's, but mostly alone. They both do an admirable job of being friends and not talking about the fact that the first night they met, they made out on Adam's bed and, in Adam's professional opinion, had been well on their way to more than that when Neil had interrupted them.

They get along amazingly well, actually, which is why Adam's kind of surprised when he picks Kris up one day and finds himself getting the cold shoulder. If Monte notices, he doesn't mention it, and they make small talk until Monte drops them off. When they've said hello to Adam's mom and gone upstairs with a bag of pretzels, Adam finally says, "So, what's wrong? Did you have problems in school today?"

"You sound like my mom." Kris flops on the futon and takes a handful of pretzels out of the bag.

"Whatever," Adam says, moving to turn on the stereo. He's not going to press it. He's worried, though. Kris is almost always in a good mood, sunny and happy and nothing like the 'moody teenage boy' stereotype. When he gets mad, he gets _mad_. Adam's never seen him _sullen_ like this.

Adam opens the window and fishes the Marlboros out of his backpack. He lights a cigarette and inhales deeply. He's not a very heavy smoker, but he can tell that dealing with a pissy Kris is going to require nicotine.

He waits it out, carefully blowing the smoke out the window, until Kris cracks under the weight of the silence. "You'd tell me if something major was going on with you, right?"

"Yeah. You're one of my best friends."

"Like if you started dating someone?"

Adam blinks. "Uh, yeah. You'd be one of the first people I'd tell that to."

Kris manages to scoff and roll his eyes at the same time. Adam almost wants to laugh, but he can tell that Kris is really upset so he stifles the impulse. "I'm not going out with anyone, though. So if you think I'm holding out on you..."

"That's not what I heard."

Adam does laugh at that, because really. "I think I'd know if I was dating a guy." He takes a deep breath. "Listen, okay? People start a lot of rumors about me. I'm the only out guy in the whole high school, so people like to talk about what I might be doing and who I might be doing it with. But I haven't even kissed anyone since..." He stops talking, not wanting to break the unspoken agreement they have not to mention _that night_.

"Who am I supposed to be doing this time?"

"Tommy," Kris mutters, looking at his hands.

Adam hoots with laughter. "Again? That rumor's so old I think my grandma started it."

"Shut up! How am I supposed to know it wasn't true?"

Kris's cheeks are red and he's staring at the floor. Adam decides to take pity on him and go easy. "You could try asking me about it before you get mad. If I started dating someone, especially a guy you know, I would totally tell you right away, okay?"

"Did you guys ever...?"

"No, Tommy's like ninety-eight percent straight. We kissed a couple of times but that's it."

"You've kissed him? How come you never told me that?"

Adam drops his cigarette butt in an old Sprite can and goes over to the futon. "Because he's straight and it was no big deal?"

"If he's straight, why did he kiss you?"

Adam bites back a grin. Kris really is adorable when he's jealous. "Okay, I'll tell you the story. So remember how I told you about Brandon?"

"Yeah. The guy from theater camp. Your first kiss."

"Right. The summer before I went to high school. After I'd kissed Brandon, I was like, 'Okay, I'm really, definitely gay. It's official.' So I wanted to tell my friends. Monte and Tommy came over to hang out after I'd been back a few days – this was before LP moved here – and I told them."

"You told me all this already. When did you _kiss_ him?"

"Fine, fine. So about a week before school starts, Tommy came over. We were up here, and he started asking me a bunch of questions about how I knew I liked guys and how kissing a guy was different than kissing a girl. At first, I thought he was just curious, but he kept talking about it, so finally I asked him if he wanted to kiss me to compare. So, we... did. And Tommy wasn't impressed. He said that it just didn't do anything for him – not like kissing girls. And I told him it was the opposite for me. We've just understood each other ever since."

Adam hopes Kris won't ask more questions, but he's more perceptive than he has a right to be. "Were you upset that it went like that?"

Ah, the uncomfortable part. "Well, it's not like I liked him that way. I'd never thought about it. But there was this... _moment_ , when he said that he wanted to kiss me, where I had this, like... this flash? And I thought that maybe we could be... I don't know, be more than friends or something. And even though I hadn't considered it even ten minutes before, it was still..." Adam shrugs, feeling the twinge of embarrassment even now. "Disappointing. When he wasn't into it at all."

Kris nods. "Yeah, kind of like when you made out with me and then said I was too young for you, but that we could be friends."

"Ouch," Adam says, putting a hand over his heart. "When you say it like that, I sound like a fucking asshole."

"You're not an asshole. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"Well, I didn't mean to make _you_ feel bad. Not that night, not ever. I just... You're in middle school, for fuck's sake. I already have people calling me a pedophile for hanging around you all the time."

Kris snorts. "Pedophiles don't like fourteen-and-a-half year olds. They like little kids."

"Nice work adding the half. Makes you sound so much older."

"Oh shut up. You've only been seventeen for a couple of months. I'll be fifteen in a couple more."

"You're not going to be fifteen for like six months. That's more than a couple." Adam doesn't know why they're even talking about this. It's high on the list of subjects that they just should _not_ be talking about.

"Whatever. Are you saying you wouldn't want to kiss me right now? If I wanted you to?"

Alarms in Adam's head start screaming, _Danger! Danger!_ , and he scoots farther away from Kris.

"Kris, we can't..."

"Why not? Because of what people will say? People already say shit about us every day! You said yourself that everyone at your school thinks you're... _doing things_ with me! Why do we have to deal with all the bad stuff and not get to do any of the good stuff?" Kris's hands are clenched into fists and he's breathing heavily, his cheeks pink and his eyes fiery.

Adam really wants to make a mature argument about having the moral high ground and whatever, but instead he pounces, shoving Kris up against the arm of the futon and sucking Kris's lower lip into his mouth. Kris grabs his back, sinking his fingers into Adam's flesh with the energy of weeks' worth of pent-up sexual tension.

Kris scoots down a bit, probably trying to keep the futon frame from severing his spine, but all that does is force him farther under Adam and drag their bodies together at several key points. "Oh, _fuck_ ," Adam says, meaning it fervently.

"Yes," Kris breathes against his mouth. Adam's not sure what he's saying yes to, but he's pretty sure that Kris would do whatever he asked in that moment.

The mature, rational part of Adam's brain is yelling helpful things like, 'Your mother is right downstairs. His parents will _kill_ you,' but every other fiber of his being is saying, 'If you just move a little to the left, your dicks will be touching and that will feel _awesome_.'

So he moves a little to the left. "Ohmigod, Adam!" Kris gasps, arching up against him.

Adam's done this a few times before – thank you, theater camp – but the way Kris is grabbing him, desperate and intense, feels so different, so good. _Kris_ is different and good. Adam knows he should stop, that this isn't fair, because they just can't start _dating_ , and it's not right to lead Kris on so spectacularly, but there's no going back now.

He ruts against Kris, sucking desperately at his mouth and his neck, even his chin – just anything he can reach – and when Kris cries out, shuddering against him, Adam can _feel_ the vibration of his voice coming through his throat.

Adam latches onto the side of Kris's neck and bites down hard, thrusting wildly as he comes too. They lie there for a few seconds, breathing hard, and then Adam throws himself backwards off Kris. "Oh god."

"What?" Kris sits up, jaw tight. "Are you going to tell me I'm too young again and make me leave?"

"No," Adam says, even though it had been on the tip of his tongue to say just that. He stands up, shaky, his underwear sticking to his skin in the front. He sidles to the drawer and pulls out two clean pairs of underwear. He tosses one to Kris. "Here. You can go clean up and borrow those. It's almost time for you to go, too. I can drive you home."

Kris makes a face that says he knows Adam's trying to get rid of him, but it _is_ getting close to five. Kris leaves to go to the bathroom and Adam changes hastily, wiping himself down with a dirty t-shirt. He's putting his shoes on when Kris comes back into the room.

He looks sad now, guilty, and Adam says quickly, "That was my fault."

"Psh. No, I think that was all me."

"Hardly."

"Forget it. I know you don't like me like that, so I'll just... I'll stop. Maybe I shouldn't come over anymore."

Adam's heart breaks a little. "That's not it. Not at all. It's just that you're..."

"Fourteen."

"And a half," Adam says weakly, attempting a smile. Kris doesn't smile back. With a sigh, Adam says, "C'mon. I'll drive you home."

Kris rebuffs all of Adam's attempts at discussion in the car, and when they pull into the driveway, he gets out of the car so quickly that Adam barely has time to say goodbye before the door closes. Adam sits in the car for a few minutes, leaning his head on the steering wheel.

____spacer____

  
After Adam doesn't hear from Kris for four days, he breaks down and calls. Kris talks to him and doesn't act like he's _mad_ , but he does say he has to go do homework after only a few minutes, and they don't make any plans to hang out.

Adam wanders downstairs to find his mom in the kitchen making iced tea. Neil is nowhere to be seen, so before he can think about it, Adam blurts, "Mom, Kris is really pissed at me and I don't know how to fix it."

She clucks her tongue sympathetically. "What did you do?"

He sighs, trying to think of a way to explain it so he doesn't sound like a creep. "Well, I think he likes me. Like as more than a friend. But he's in _eighth grade_."

She looks at him, narrowing her eyes speculatively. "Do you like him too?"

Adam flashes back to kissing Kris, to lying on top of him, to just talking to him. It must show on his face because his mom leans in and hugs him. "He is a little young, but anyone can see how well you boys get along. If you wanted him to be your boyfriend, your father and I would be fine with that."

"God, mom, don't say it like that! It sounds gross when you say _boyfriend_ ," he complains, but he can't help smiling a little. "How do you know what dad would say anyway?" he asks, attempting to change the subject.

She punches him in the arm. "Don't be a brat. And you think we haven't talked about it? You two are pretty obvious. We actually thought you were together and you just hadn't told us. Kris's parents think so, too."

Adam feels slightly sick at the idea that their parents have been _discussing_ them, probably with some horrible variation of 'oh, aren't they cute?' It's just too much to stomach. "Ugh, mom, we're not little kids. And you and dad aren't the problem. My friends, everyone in school, they're going to say horrible things. They already do."

"Well, if they already say them, what's the problem?"

"That's not funny."

"I know," she tells him, giving him another hug. She takes a deep breath. "You're not going to... You're not... sleeping together, right?"

" _Mom_!"

"I have to ask! He's fourteen, Adam. If you want to go out, that's fine, but I don't think it's appropriate for you to be having sex."

Adam wiggles away from her and prepares to flee, the mild nausea turning to full-on intestinal distress. "I have to go kill myself now," he tells her.

"Adam."

"Mom, I'm not having sex, not with him, not with anyone. After this, I'm not going to have sex until you're dead."

"Stop being so dramatic. And whose opinion do you really care about, anyway? Your friends like Kris, I know they do. It's up to you to decide, honey. But I really hope that you're not letting the opinions of people who don't matter make your decisions for you."

She walks away and leaves him standing in the kitchen, feeling gross on so many levels. He sighs, leaning his hands on the cool marble countertop. He really doesn't know what to do about Kris. The main thing that's freaking him out is the realization that his parents and Kris's parents thought they were dating already. Essentially, they _have_ been dating. Until Adam dry-humped him on a futon and then kicked him out.

He leans his head down on the counter and groans. He's such a fucking idiot.

____spacer____

  
When Adam gets to school the next day, he meets his friends on the bench. He doesn't beat around the bush. "Do you guys think Kris and I are dating?"

They all look at him for a second and then Monte says, "Yeah."

"Duh," Tommy adds.

"You are, right?" LP asks.

Adam sinks down on the bench and puts his head in his hands. "I'm so stupid."

"Yeah, we know. What did you do this time? Did Kris dump you?" Tommy asks.

"We weren't going out! And what happened to all of your shit from before? 'Oh, he's a baby!' you said! You told me I was gonna get arrested! And now it's totally cool with you if he's my _boyfriend_?" He shivers. It doesn't sound any less gross when he says it than when his mom does.

Monte shrugs. "We got to know him. He's a pretty cool guy. And he's not _that_ young."

"Yeah, man. Besides, people were saying you fucked him at some party. That's nasty. If you're actually dating him, that's way less messed-up," LP adds.

"Wow, thanks."

"So what did you do?" Tommy presses.

Adam sits up, rolling his shoulders. "I told him he's too young for me again."

His friends clearly know him too well, because they all sit silently, realizing that's not the whole story. He sighs. "I said it after we'd just gotten off."

"Wow, you are _really_ stupid," Monte tells him.

"I _know_!"

"I thought you weren't fucking him," Tommy says, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not fucking him! We just ended up fooling around a little bit..."

"So basically, you told him he's good enough to fool around with, but not good enough to actually date. That's low, Adam."

Adam bites back a sarcastic retort about how Tommy's clearly been reading too much _Cosmo_ , but LP and Monte are nodding, and Adam knows they're right. He's a total jerk. He thinks about Kris that night, quiet and earnest, telling him he wasn't an asshole. How wrong can one person be?

"Monte, will you drive me to pick him up?"

"Yeah, but if he doesn't want to talk to you, I'm not gonna blame him."

"I wouldn't blame him either," Adam mumbles.

Tommy grabs his hand. "C'mon. It's almost time for class. You can work out your boy problems later."

"Ugh, I have _boy problems_. I'm such a teen movie cliché."

The others laugh, but Adam's mind is already on how he's going to fix things with Kris.

____spacer____

  
After school, he makes the familiar trip with Monte, fidgeting the whole time.

"If you don't stop that, I'm going to punch you right in the solar plexus."

"Bring it," Adam says, making karate hands.

Monte doesn't look scared. "What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. This is a problem with dating guys. He's not going to want to hear about my feelings. I don't want to _tell_ him about my feelings."

"What are your feelings?"

Adam shrugs. "I like him. And I'm sorry I was a jerk about the whole thing."

"Those are good feelings. You can start with those."

"I hope he's not _too_ pissed at me," Adam says as they pull into the parking lot of the middle school.

Monte tries to make conversation, but Adam is preoccupied with watching the school, willing Kris to come out of it, so Monte's attempts taper off into silence.

Finally students start coming out and Adam gets out of the car, holding his hand above his eyes to block the sun. He spots Kris before too long, and waits for him to get closer before he waves. Kris hesitates for a second, but then he says something to the guys he's walking with and heads for Monte's car.

"Hey," he says, his face guarded.

"Hey. I owe you a big apology. I know this isn't the place to talk about it, though. Will you come over?"

Kris nods and opens the car door. For most of the ride, Monte and Kris talk about music and Adam shifts nervously in his seat. He's not sure why he's scared. He knows he and Kris will be okay, but it's seriously weirding him out that, if everything goes well, Kris will be his _boyfriend_ after this. It still sounds creepy. Maybe he'll just say they're 'dating.' That's better somehow. Less... girly.

Monte drops them off and gives Adam a covert thumbs-up. Adam rolls his eyes and drags Kris inside and up to his room. Once they're in, Kris lurks over near the stereo, eyeing Adam suspiciously.

"I'm sorry, okay? Really, really sorry. For all of it."

"Sorry for what, exactly?"

Adam grits his teeth. Kris can be such a little shit. But Adam's not going to grovel or anything. "Listen, it's been pointed out to me that we're basically dating, but I wouldn't admit it because I thought you were too young for me. And that was stupid and... and prejudiced. Like, age discrimination or something? You're cool and... I _like_ you, okay? So can we just... try this again?"

It's probably not a very good apology, but they're a couple of guys and they really _don't_ need to talk about their feelings. Kris grins and Adam's heart contracts a little. He's so very, very fucked, but he can't freak out about it now because Kris is crossing the room and Adam has to grab him up in a hug that pulls Kris onto his tip-toes. Kris buries his face in Adam's shoulder.

Adam locks his arms around Kris's back and hauls him across the floor, toes scraping on the rug, until he can deposit Kris on the bed. He climbs on top of him, pushing Kris's hips down into the mattress, and he twists both hands into Kris's hair. Adam leans down and just as they're about to kiss, Kris says, "So are we, like, _boyfriends_ now?" His lips are so close to Adam's that they brush with each word. Adam's just about to say something – or ignore him and just slide their lips together – when Kris adds, "Because 'boyfriends' sounds kinda... lame."

Adam laughs against Kris's mouth. Seriously, how did he not realize how perfect they were for each other? Soulmates if there ever were any.

He doesn't respond in favor of trailing the tip of his tongue over Kris's full lower lip and wedging his thigh between Kris's legs which appears to make Kris forget the question.

Adam's just moved his lips down to Kris's neck in preparation for marking him with the best hickey he can manage – now that Kris is his, he seems to have uncovered an untapped wealth of possessiveness – when his door opens without warning.

"Mom!"

Adam's mother leans a shoulder against the doorframe and watches as they disentangle themselves, embarrassed.

"So I take it you boys worked things out?" Adam stares her down until she gives in. "Fine, you can have some privacy, but I'm reserving the right to burst in here whenever I want, and you both better have clothes on."

" _Mom_!"

" _Adam_."

Adam sighs. "Fine, no nudity. Leave now."

"Fine, I'll let you get back to your boyfriend," she says, looking far too pleased with herself. "Not kidding about the checking in, either. There are also going to be some very uncomfortable discussions that will probably hurt me more than they hurt you two."

She closes the door, and Adam and Kris look at each other for a second. "Maybe this was a big mistake," Adam says.

Kris nods solemnly. "You know I'm like fourteen, right?"

Adam laughs, but then he looks at Kris. "You know we can't... do anything, yeah?"

"Making out isn't sex," Kris points out, proving once again that he's very wise for his age. "And we've only been going out for, like, eight minutes. I'm not a slut or anything."

"Noted," Adam says, and pulls him closer.

____spacer____

  
Proving once again that Adam is sort of slow on the uptake, moving their relationship from friendship to romance doesn't create much change. The only differences are that there's more kissing and more awkward sex talks with their parents. The former is really awesome and the latter is totally fucking horrendous. He still has nightmares about the way Kris's dad pulled him aside and said that he understood about _urges_ , but that he expected Adam to rise above, or something horrible like that. It still makes Adam want to throw up in his mouth whenever he thinks about it.

And his mom keeps leaving boxes of condoms in his room with big notes on them that say things like, _You better not need to use these._ which is like the mother of all mixed messages. And he doesn't know what she thinks he's going to need condoms for at all, since, other than a couple of furtive handjobs at theater camp, Adam's a total virgin. Of course, Kris is too, and they're both about as likely to have an STD as they are to get pregnant.

Their friends tease them a little more now, and some of the insults lobbed Adam's way hurt a little more. He might not be a pedophile, but he is sort of a cradle robber. He tries to own it, though.

They go out on dates, but they're sort of indistinguishable from going to the movies or the bowling alley as friends. They're both keenly aware that man-on-man PDA isn't exactly welcomed with open arms by most people, so for the most part, they're just two guys doing stuff together. They don't have a lot of occasion to do anything that screams, 'We're a gay couple!'

Until Kris brings up the dance, that is.

They're sitting around in Adam's room, doing homework. Adam's geometry assignment is mind-numbing and he's just thinking about asking Kris if he wants to make out when Kris says, "You know, the eighth grade formal is coming up."

"Mmmm...?" Adam says, his mind still on Kris's mouth.

"So I was thinking maybe we could go."

That gets Adam's attention. "Together? To the eighth grade dance?"

"Yeah," Kris says, looking strangely nervous.

"I'm in eleventh grade. I don't think I'm invited."

"Well, you're invited because I'm inviting you. My friend Jennifer wanted to ask Anoop – you know, Neil's friend? He was in our class before, but he skipped eighth grade. She asked if it was okay to bring a date from the high school and Miss Sumner, who's like head of the dance committee, said it was fine."

"Yeah, but there's a big difference between someone bringing a freshman who used to be in your class and you bringing _me_?"

"Why, because we're both boys?" Kris has his gay crusader face on, and Adam pats his leg.

"Calm it. Not just that. It's the whole thing. It's the gay thing and the age thing together, which is a whole lot of wrong to a lot of people."

Kris crosses his arms. "You're my... guy that I date. I want to go to the dance with you."

Adam wants to congratulate him on his successful avoidance of 'boyfriend,' but he can tell that Kris isn't in the mood. He thinks about it for a second, imagining getting dressed up and drinking punch and dancing together. It doesn't sound that terrible.

"I've never been to a school dance, actually. I guess it could be fun."

"You've never been to a dance?" Kris looks scandalized and Adam wants to ask how many _he's_ been to.

"Look at who I hang out with. We're not exactly brimming with school spirit. I think the other guys have been to a couple if they were dating girls who wanted to go, but I wasn't going to go by myself and stand around by the refreshments and angst about being a big homo."

Kris nods like that makes sense. "But now you have a person to go with."

"Do I have to buy you a corsage?" Adam jokes.

"Dude, how gay would _that_ be?"

____spacer____

  
Adam doesn't buy a corsage, but on the night of the dance, he does wish he'd purchased a gun or maybe a large knife, because suicide is really the only way for him to overcome the humiliation that his parents and the Allens put him through.

It's not so bad when he's getting ready. He tries to strike the perfect balance of formal and not, picking out his tightest jeans, and a button down shirt in a purple so dark it's almost black. He finishes with a black leather jacket, a dark tie, and motorcycle boots. A little jewelry and he's ready to go.

Unfortunately, his mother is standing at the bottom of the stairs with a camera. Neil is lurking behind her, laughing like a moron. "Shit, Mom! I'm not on the red carpet. It's a stupid school dance."

"It's your first dance! It's exciting. Go stand by the fireplace."

Adam grits his teeth and stands by the fireplace, mostly so she won't deny him the car keys.

When he finally escapes the horrors of his mother and her camera, he feels free. For about five minutes, until he knocks on Kris's door and is greeted by Mrs. Allen, also with a camera. Well, fuck.

Kris looks adorable in a gray suit that's just an inch too short in the sleeves – probably had a growth spurt since they bought it – with his hair combed all neatly for once.

He also has a look on his face that Adam hasn't seen outside of movies about prisoners of war. "Let's go!" he hisses, grabbing Adam's arm.

"Kristopher!" his mother barks, all false sweetness. "Come over here! You too, Adam. I need pictures."

"Let me guess, by the fireplace?" Adam says drily.

Mr. Allen smirks. "Did your mother get you too?"

"I already told her I'd make copies of these for her," Mrs. Allen says, waving the camera.

Adam and Kris stand in front of the fireplace, about a foot of space between them. Mrs. Allen keeps making them scoot closer together until Adam finally gives in and wraps his arms around Kris in the traditional prom photo pose. Mrs. Allen coos and flaps her hands, taking picture after picture as they try to smile.

When they finally escape, Kris is visibly sweating. "That was the worst thing I've ever had to do."

Adam takes great pleasure in reminding him that it was his idea to go to the dance in the first place, which shuts Kris up.

When they get there, they spend about an hour milling around, sampling the refreshments and conversing with just about everyone, since all of the kids there are sort of _curious_. Adam overdoses on the word 'boyfriend' about five minutes in. Everyone wants to know if they're together and how they met. Some people steer clear, but no one is openly hostile. Adam catches a few 'ew, gross' looks passing between some of the guys, but he's a hell of a lot bigger than most of them and no one dares to say anything to their faces.

It's pretty much what Adam expected a school dance to be after watching them in movies. The decorations are much more low-budget and the outfits are far less fabulous, but basically it's what he was prepared for. None of the cliché things happen – the class doesn't vote them King and King of the dance to teach a lesson about acceptance, and no one forms a big circle around them to watch them dance. It's a big relief, actually.

As the dance is starting to wind down, Adam and Kris are standing around talking to Charles and Matt, and Adam decides he wants to dance again. The first notes of something slow spread through the gym and Adam grabs Kris's hand in mid-sentence and drags him onto the dance floor. It should be a romantic gesture, but they're barely touching before they realize the DJ is playing "Truly, Madly, Deeply," and they exchange a look.

"And I thought we avoided all of the teen romance clichés," Adam says, tightening his arms around Kris. "I guess we couldn't escape without at least one."

"This song is so... girly," Kris complains. But Adam can't help but notice that he snuggles closer, leaning his head on Adam's shoulder.

"Mmmhm," Adam murmurs, leaning his cheek on the top of Kris's head.

It's actually kind of perfect. Then Kris leans back and says, "Want to sneak outside and go under the bleachers by the football field? We can make out."

Adam takes his hand and breaks for the door. The air is cool after the overheated gym, and it feels amazing. "You're kind of brilliant," Adam says.

"Well, one of us needs to be."

Adam rolls his eyes. _Such_ a little shit. But he's adorable in his suit and tie, his hair sticking up a little where Adam leaned against it, and anyway, Adam apparently has kind of a thing for mouthy guys.

When they hit the edge of the field, they break into a run. They arrive at the bleachers, laughing and out of breath, and realize that there are people there. A few kids look like they've escaped from the dance, but there are some older kids too. It looks like a tough crowd – the type of people Adam's mom would refer to as burnouts. Adam immediately feels more comfortable.

They're still holding hands when everyone turns to look at them, and one of the older guys says, "Are you the two dudes who are on a date at that dance in there?"

Kris tries to drop Adam's hand, but Adam squares his shoulders and says, "Yeah." One of the younger-looking girls turns away a little guiltily and Adam wonders if she was gossiping about them.

The guy nods slowly. "Okay."

They brace for further comment, but no one seems to care. Adam smiles to himself. He loves that the outcasts are usually the ones who don't give a shit about who you date. The people who care are the ones who want to fit in and want everyone else to fit in neat little boxes as well.

One of the girls pulls her hand out from behind her back, and there's a joint dangling between her fingers. Adam grins when she extends it. He looks at Kris, who's looking sort of wide-eyed. "You cool?"

Kris nods, so Adam takes the joint and hits it hard. He's no stranger to pot – seriously theater camp is better than Disney World – but it's been a while. He manages not to cough. He holds the joint out to Kris who shakes his head minutely.

"Hey, I know you," a girl says, pointing at Kris. She has long blonde hair and a very pretty face, and Adam's sure he's seen her around school. "You were at that party where everyone was playing spin the bottle. At Neil's house! And then you... Oh. So you're Adam," she finishes with a laugh. "I just put all this together; I'm so dumb."

He grins and extends his hand. "Yeah, I'm Adam. He's Kris."

"Megan," she says, taking the joint from him and smoothing down the front of her brightly-colored peasant dress. Adam isn't sure if she was at the dance or if she just dresses that way normally. She introduces the other people, and Adam lets the conversation wash over him. Kris still looks slightly nervous, so Adam pulls him down to sit on the grass.

Megan passes him the joint again and Adam checks to see if anyone's watching them. No one is paying particular attention so he sucks in a huge mouthful of smoke and tilts Kris's face up, using a finger against his jaw to prompt him to open his mouth. Adam fits his mouth over Kris's and blows the smoke out, kissing him hard enough that he has no choice but to inhale. Kris coughs a little, but he doesn't throw up, which is better than Adam did his first time.

Adam's feeling the pot now and he leans back on his elbows, looking up at the underside of the bleachers. "This is kind of cliché, too," Kris whispers above him, his breath smoky and warm on Adam's face.

Adam thinks, _I'm pretty sure I might kind of love you_ , but he doesn't say it out loud.

He contemplates the feeling for a moment, but then Megan plops down next to them and says, "That was totally hot. Do it again."

And even if sitting under the bleachers and getting stoned during a dance is _totally_ something out of a teen movie, Adam doesn't mind at all. Kris is warm next to him, and totally giddy off three shotgunned hits, and it's the best dance Adam's ever been to.

They only miss curfew by thirty minutes, and Adam walks Kris to his front door, both of them smelling way too much like the lilac air freshener that Megan sprayed on them when they left. Adam kisses Kris hard up against the door and as he's in the car driving home, he wonders if he'll ever be able to smell lilacs again without getting an erection.

It's pretty much the best night of his life. Cliché as that sounds.

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It just gets better from there, which is really kind of epic. When the school year ends, Adam forgoes theater camp in favor of staying with Kris. Because, really, who needs fumbled handjobs from guys you've just met when you can have a fumbled handjob from a guy you're dating? And Adam's pretty sure that he's learned everything that Camp Stardom can teach him.

They spend most of their days in traditional summer fashion – lying around and doing nothing. But occasionally they get ambitious, and a few days after Kris's fifteenth birthday, Adam and his friends take Kris camping. Their parents don't trust them to go too far, so they set up their tents in the nature preserve just outside of town.

When the sun begins to set, LP and Monte make a campfire and they sit around, talking. Monte's girlfriend Lisa is there, along with some girls LP and Tommy invited. Everyone's drinking, but no one's sloppy drunk, and Kris is tucked under Adam's arm, warm and perfect.

After the beer's gone, they retire to their tents. Kris starts stripping off his clothes almost immediately. Adam sits on his sleeping bag and watches him without pretending it's anything other than pervy staring. Kris gives him a smirk like he really doesn't care.

Kris hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulls them off, a little too slowly, like it's a striptease. He's hard already, just from undressing in front of Adam, and Adam can't resist crawling over and squeezing Kris's dick. He's on his knees in front of Kris and Kris is naked and hard, and even though it isn't something they've been doing – they've been restricting their activities to things they can stop easily if one of their mothers bursts in and it's kind of hard to pretend you're not sucking a dick – Adam leans forward and licks the tip of Kris's dick.

Kris's knees buckle a little and he whispers, "We promised we wouldn't have sex," even as he's twisting his fingers into the hair at the back of Adam's head.

"I don't think this counts," Adam says, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking hard. Kris whimpers. "Do you want it to count?" Adam asks, leaning in for another suck. He's not playing fair at all, he knows, but Kris is at least halfway evil, as his little striptease proved, so Adam's sure he won't be mad about it.

Kris pulls Adam's hair just enough to test Adam's pain threshold. Definitely evil. "No, doesn't count. Do that again."

Adam grins and complies. It's not as difficult as he'd thought it would be. Kris doesn't seem to mind that he doesn't have tricks and techniques. Adam does what he imagines would feel good, forming his lips into a tight O and pulling Kris's dick in and out, slowly and then faster.

When Kris comes, he pulls some of Adam's hair out at the roots. Adam struggles a little, but manages to swallow. He's kind of proud of himself for that. But he does grab his water bottle and take a big drink.

Kris flops onto his sleeping bag, boneless and sated. "Want me to...?"

"Not tonight. I'm close already. Come here, touch me."

Kris scoots over and Adam pulls his cock out of his jeans. It only takes a few strokes of Kris's hand and he's coming all over his pants. They fall back into their nest of sleeping bags and cuddle up, Adam still fully dressed and Kris butt-naked. Adam hopes no one looks in on them.

Sometime just before dawn, Adam wakes up to pee. When he gets back in the tent, he zips their sleeping bags together and maneuvers Kris inside. Then he takes off his clothes and cuddles in next to Kris, enjoying the feel of all that skin pressed together.

When they finally wake up for good, the sun is high in the sky and they're sweating in the sleeping bag. They slide against each other, slick and slow, feeling no need to hurry. It almost surprises Adam when he comes, spreading wetness on their stomachs and thighs.

They clean up, watching each other in the dim light that filters through the tent's walls. When they're dressed, Adam pulls Kris to him and kisses him. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks. Even though you totally broke the no-sex rule."

"Like that was my fault? You're sneakier than I am. Don't think I don't know what you were doing last night... _Seducing_ me. Little shit."

Kris laughs. "Yeah, you love me."

"Yeah, I kinda do," he says, holding Kris tighter against him.

"Me too," Kris says, rubbing his face on Adam's shoulder.

They stand like that until Tommy starts yelling for them to come out or he's coming in. Laughing, they stumble out to harass Tommy and eat marshmallows for breakfast.

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On Kris's first day of high school, Kris and Charles meet Adam and his friends on the bench. Kris's friend Matt wanders over with Anoop and, unfortunately, Neil. Everyone's talking and laughing, and Adam and Kris exchange a look, pleased that their friends are getting along.

When the bell rings, they wave to everyone and Adam walks Kris to class. He doesn't carry his books for him, and they don't want to attract attention by holding hands or anything. But it's still definitely something out of a cheesy movie, and it's ten kinds of cliché, but Adam doesn't even care. He drops Kris off at his new homeroom and hurries to get to his own class before the second bell.

He sinks into his desk and pulls out his new notebook. He opens to the first page and sees that someone's drawn a little heart. Inside, in Kris's handwriting, it says, _Kris loves Adam_.

Adam shakes his head and traces a finger idly over the writing. He _has_ always wanted to be in the movies. Not necessarily the romantic comedy genre, but he'll take what he can get. And being Kris's boyfriend is definitely good practice.

~The End~


End file.
